The Warmth of Sunshine
by Ebony10
Summary: Set directly after Lesson 126. Chiaki attends Nodame's first performance with an orchestra...he deals with not being the conductor as well as his feelings for a certain pianist. Finally finished!
1. Chapter 1: Missing Warmth

His hand clenched around the program

AN: Hello everyone! I haven't written a fanfic in 4 years so bear with me. Let me know if there are any mistakes. I've only read up to lesson 126 so if this doesn't go with the rest of the story: sorry!

His hand clenched around the program. Startled, he looked down to his lap, automatically smoothing out the crumpled paper. Amidst the wrinkles, the words glared.

…_Megumi Noda as pianist…_

Nothing new. Nodame is, has always been, a pianist, but… 'but not like this,' his mind argued. He stared at the stage, illuminated in the dark theatre. 'Not here, not with him.'

As these thoughts flew through his head, he grew more distressed. Stresemann was an old lech, but even Chiaki couldn't deny that the old conductor harbored strong feelings toward Nodame. He was protective, sometimes almost paternal.

He gave his head a shake. That wasn't important now. What was important was that Nodame was about to play piano with an orchestra, with one of her friends as conductor…with someone _else's_ orchestra, with someone _other_ than him. He stiffened in surprise. He was upset that she was on stage with someone else? That was unlike him. He wasn't from the dark ages, a relic who couldn't share his woman. Wait, _his_ woman? That couldn't be right. He couldn't feel that way. Admitting a claim on her was tantamount to a confession he didn't want to make, _wouldn't_ make. Admitting a claim on her was admitting that _she_ had a claim on _him_.

Never! _That_ hentai??

But as he saw her step onto the stage, he involuntarily sucked in a deep breath, feeling it catch in his throat. It wasn't that she was with a different orchestra. It wasn't that Stresemann, and not himself, was conductor of said orchestra.

It was that she hadn't told him. Her first concert.

She had disappeared. Hadn't told him where. Hadn't even _tried_ to lie. That scared him. She hadn't even lied. She had just left, wordlessly.

'No,' he admitted to himself. 'That wasn't it.'

It was that she had given up her dream—_that_ he had become so accustomed to hearing that he assumed it would happen. That they would play together—"the Golden Pair" as she had called them. It wasn't out of the question. They could still play together. It was just that in his imagination (not that he ever imagined it; he would _never_), he had always assumed it would be her first performance with an orchestra. Her words echoed in his head.

"_Senpai…will you marry me?"_

What happened? How had they come to this? Why had she shut him out—no, _ignored_ him. Had she given up on him?

No! He was surprised at the vehemence of his denial. He wouldn't, couldn't let that happen. A life without Nodame was a life without sunshine. Sure, he could live without her, like one could live with only overcast weather.

But…how would he ever feel warmth again? How would his music ever exude warmth again? Now that he had known it, he found himself unwilling to let it go.

"_Senpai…will you marry me?"_

Again, his fists clenched. This time, he didn't hear the crinkling of paper. For once, he didn't hear the music surrounding him. He felt cold. He hadn't heard her voice in days. His eyes stared out into the theatre, noting only the darkness and the light far ahead…the spotlight on the pianist…on Nodame.

"_Senpai…will you marry me?"_

"Yes," he whispered. He felt, rather than saw, the heads of those nearby turn to look at him, questioning. He ignored them, still staring, captivated by the sight of her in the light. Her music filtered into his daze, warm. He wanted to be warm. He wanted…wanted…

He wanted…Nodame.


	2. Chapter 2: Finding Warmth

He couldn't catch up to her

This was originally going to be a one-shot, but I've decided to turn it into a story of three parts. Thanks to all who have reviewed and especially to _et cetera et cetera_ for helping me jump over my writer's block! Enjoy!

_Chapter 2: Finding Warmth_

He couldn't catch up to her. Every time. Every time…he missed her. He had felt her, felt warmth just last night at her concert. He had tried to go backstage, but she and Stresemann had already left. He couldn't find them at the hotel. (That produced horrible imaginings of where they were, what they were doing—he remembered his nights with Stresemann after a performance.) He had tried again this morning.

He could feel it just beyond his grasp, rays of sunshine. His sunshine.

Now he just had to tell her. Actually, first he had to find her.

'Kuso! That hentai,' Chiaki scowled. The passersby gave him a wide berth, warily eying his expression. 'Where is she?'

His phone beeped at him. His scowl deepened, then lifted suddenly. Nodame? Hastily, he flipped open his phone to look at the caller ID. His scowl returned.

It was Elise's henchman. He stabbed at the talk button. "Chiaki speaking."

He listened for a moment. Slowly, his spirits lightened as did his demeanor. The people around him stopped clutching their belongings suspiciously and returned to ignoring him, the London bustle continuing. He strode forward decisively. Time to get to the airport.

…just an hour later, his scowl had returned. He had missed her, _again_. He couldn't believe his luck, or lack thereof. Now he had to fly back (alone!) without having worked things out with Nodame.

It was late by the time he returned to Paris (or early, really), mentally cursing Nodame. He hadn't slept all night. She had better be at her apartment. He knocked (more like pounded) on her door. He paused only slightly before taking out his key and letting himself in. She was lucky he had knocked in the first place!

"Oi! Nodame!"

His eyes scanned the living room area. He stomped around the apartment. She wasn't here!

He flung open the door to the bedroom and stopped short. There she was. _Sleeping_, of all things (how she had slept through his perusal of the apartment was anyone's guess). He stood still in the open doorway, wanting nothing more than to shake her awake and settle things. Her face looked peaceful; _she_ looked peaceful all snuggled under the blankets. Her hair lay in disarray, some of it coming to rest against her cheek. His fingers twitched. Almost without realizing it, he found himself moving closer to her, his hand reaching out to brush her hair back. She stirred slightly and he held his breath. She didn't awaken.

His anger melted away as he considered her. Sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, he leaned his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. What was he doing?

He felt the bed shift beneath him and he stiffened. He turned to watch Nodame slowly come awake. Odd, he had seen her fall asleep, had seen her in the grips of sleep, had even seen her come awake quickly. It occurred to him then that he had never watched this slow process of awareness. The sleepy, warm look in her eyes. The sinuous stretch of her muscles as she adjusted in the bed. It seemed more intimate, somehow, this moment that he was sharing with her (he was _not_ intruding—this used to be _his_ apartment, damn it!).

The calming moment didn't last. He saw recognition, then confusion replace that warm look. Worst of all, following those was the cool detachment. He felt as if he were watching her concert again. Like she was so far away, the light just out of his reach as he sat in the cold darkness. He shook his head. How ridiculous! She was right _here_.

"Senpai? What are you doing here?"

Words echoed in his mind. _"Senpai, will you marry me?"_

"Why, Nodame?" He couldn't stop the words as they escaped his mouth. Her mouth worked. That mouth…

She struggled to a sitting position, pulling away from him slightly to the other side of the bed. "Why what? What do you need, senpai?"

What did he need? After all he'd been through, she still needed to ask?! He needed—he steeled his mind, he could do this—he needed…sunshine. She didn't need to know that though, right? He couldn't let her to think he was vulnerable. She would pounce then and he would lose control of the situation.

"You didn't want me there?" Again, the words seemed to come from nowhere. They couldn't be coming from him, never. He had rigid control. He had cultivated that control from childhood. It wouldn't desert him…but her mouth hadn't moved and it sounded strangely like his voice, but from another time—a time when he wanted approval, would have done anything for a sign from his father.

She wasn't his father. He didn't just _want_ her approval; he found he _needed_ it as he had never needed anything before. Her demeanor softened, seemingly against her will.

"Where?"

He couldn't answer her question. "Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

"I was busy," she replied, getting defensive.

"How selfish! You didn't think that others would worry when you didn't show up at school for three days?" he practically snarled at her. "Once they found out you weren't with me, they probably couldn't stop thinking about you, wondering if you were okay."

She turned away from him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Why would I be with you?"

"Because you—I...we…we're always together. It's a logical assumption," he finished triumphantly.

"Well, you don't have to worry, senpai. Nodame and Chiaki aren't married. We don't have to always be together," she said. He couldn't see her face so he tried desperately to read her tone. She sounded detached still, but was that a hint of anger underneath it all? He didn't know how to answer her.

She stood, rather haughtily he thought, moving away from the bed. The aloof moment was spoiled as she got tangled in the bed sheets and face-planted. He smiled wryly, his first real smile in what seemed like months when it had actually only been days. Only Nodame…

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice she had righted herself and was rifling through her drawers. Was she going to ignore him?

"Nodame," he started only to stop as she breezed past him to the bathroom with a handful of clothes. He stood frozen to the floor. She had walked out on him! She didn't walk away from him—it just wasn't something she would do. She was ever the attentive wife. He shook himself. That's what she would call herself at least. He heard the water start in the shower (she was showering of her own free will!) and walked to the bathroom door, leaning his forehead against it. Just a piece of wood really, that was all that separated them. Though it seemed as though continents were between them now. How to fix it? How to fix them? She had done it to escape him, he knew. After all, it wasn't morning yet, not really. The light of the lamps in the courtyard illuminated the room, but it was far from dawn.

He sighed. He returned to her bed. He was so tired. He would lie down, just for a minute to think. As his head hit the pillow, he breathed in deeply. The familiar scent of Nodame registered on his senses. Oddly enough, it wasn't repugnant. He had never fully acknowledged it, but she had gotten better with her hygiene over the last few months. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, imagining her close to him. The bathroom door opened and he quickly sat up. Nodame came out toweling her hair, dressed back in her pajamas rather than the clothes she had taken in with her. She stopped when she saw him on the bed.

"Oh! Senpai, you're still here." Her surprise was evident. 'So that's why she's still in her pajamas,' he mused. 'She thought I would give up.'

Why wouldn't she think that? He ignored the traitorous voice in the back of his mind, turning his attention back to Nodame. She shifted uncomfortably. At last! Some real feeling!

"Why did you give up your dream, Nodame?" Again, with that mouth control thing. She was the only one who had ever made him feel out of control, had made his life spiral out of control. He shouldn't be surprised anymore. Her eyes widened, meeting his briefly before fleeing.

"What dream?"

He got up, walking toward her. It comforted him to see her back away from him. He felt more in control, less vulnerable. "Your dream of us as the Golden Pair."

One more step and she'd be back in the bathroom. She stopped, seeming to deflate completely. "It was never going to happen, senpai."

Her quiet answer surprised him. He had a feeling she was talking about more than just them as the Golden Pair. The memory that had been plaguing him flashed again.

"_Senpai, will you marry me?"_

"Why do you say that?"

She pushed him away from her, regaining her personal space. Her brief exercise of force was contradicted by her defeated pose as she sat once more on the edge of the bed, eyes looking anywhere but him. "You need to ask?"

He was flummoxed. He hadn't quite expected to find this rationality in her. He stepped closer. "Yes."

"It's obvious, senpai. Nodame is good at ignoring reality when she wants to, but it's getting ridiculous. We need to stop wasting each other's time." He felt cold. He was sick of feeling cold. Her words were just more blasts of frigid air. He shivered.

Setting his shoulders, he walked forward toward her, his warmth. He ignored her stiffening and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I like it when you waste my time."

It was easier than he thought it would be, making this admission. Her wet hair should feel cold against his face as he nuzzled into it, but he seemed impervious to it. Finally, he was starting to feel warm again, like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Slowly, she relaxed in his hold, unable to hold out against her true weakness. He grinned unabashedly, knowing she couldn't see him. He loved that he was her weakness. It was probably time that she start realizing that _she_ was _his_ weakness. His thoughts paused. Not now though. Maybe another day.

Bringing her with him, he lay down on the bed, rolling slightly to the middle. He hugged her even closer, feeling the softness of her warm body meld against his. He had to say more, keep her this way. He didn't think he could say what he felt yet, he was too new to this. He could, no he _would_ come close though. "I want to be the Golden Pair with you, Nodame."

She remained silent. He knew that they weren't okay yet, but she was here in his arms. They would work the rest out later, tomorrow maybe. He had found his warmth.


	3. Chapter 3: Grasping Warmth

Grasping Warmth

Here's the last part, everyone! Sorry about it taking so long, but school was much busier than I expected. Thanks so much to Et cetera Et cetera for all of the support and advice. Happy Holidays! Enjoy!

Also, beware of a wee bit of swearing. Chiaki is an adult and his frustration certainly doesn't curb his speech.

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_Chapter 3: Grasping Warmth_

That hentai!

He couldn't say that she was ignoring him really--couldn't even say that she was avoiding him. It was just that she wasn't seeking him out anymore.

And it bugged him. A lot.

He found himself waiting for her to show up at his apartment, demanding food and attention. She didn't. Multiple times a day he had to fight the urge to go to her apartment, he had to fight the craving he had to see her, to know what she was doing. He wondered if she was eating enough. He wondered how to get her back into his arms. It had been two weeks.

The baka! Didn't she know that he missed her? He scowled at his coat before glancing at the door and returning his glare once more to his coat.

What was even more annoying was the fact that she conveniently "forgot" that she had proposed to him. He could finally admit it: he had blown it. Would she ever put herself out there again, risking his rejection? He hadn't even rejected her—worse, he hadn't taken her seriously.

He sighed, his scowl finally fading away. His shoulders slumped as his conscience berated him.

_Why should she risk herself again? She's always the one doing the risking._

His scowl returned as he willed his conscience to shut up. He made some risks too, dammit! Hadn't he admitted that he wanted to be the Golden Pair with Nodame??

His phone rang. He unconsciously perked up, his face taking on an eager countenance as he sprinted toward his land line. He grabbed it up, not bothering to glance at the caller id.

"Hello," he ground out rather breathlessly.

"Shinichi?"

His body deflated. It wasn't her—wasn't Nodame. He shivered a bit, wondering absently if he had left a window open. It was a bit chilly.

"Shinichi, are you alright? You sound out of breath."

"I'm fine, Mother," he responded dully as he sat in a chair in his living room. He could tell by the tone of her voice that this call would take a while, at least fifteen minutes he mentally estimated. Ah, well, maybe it would take his mind off a certain someone.

"You certainly don't sound fine. Is orchestra practice going badly?" She sounded concerned. He mentally added another ten minutes to his tally.

"No, it's going well."

She sighed and he could almost feel her frustration with him. "What could it be then? There's not much else that upsets you."

He felt a bit affronted that she thought he was so one-dimensional. "I do have a life outside of music, Mother."

She had the gall to laugh. "Dear, I hate to point this out, but: no, you don't."

He opened his mouth to argue with her (he _really_ felt like arguing with someone right now) and then shut it as he realized that she was right. Not only that, but he didn't mind that music had so invaded him. It had brought him many good things.

"Besides, it doesn't matter if music is your life. Think of how many great things have happened because of it," his mother continued. He shuddered. In very rare instances, her thought process seemed to mirror his. He cringed as he considered the possibility that he may become like her in the future. He loved his mother, but that didn't mean he wanted to be like her. "Why, you never would have met Nodame if it weren't for music!"

He briefly considered his life without Nodame. A little voice inside his head taunted him.

_Oddly enough, it would be just like it is now._

He steadfastly ignored the voice. Damn weirdo forest and its side effects.

His mother had noticed his silence. "How is Nodame? I heard from a contact in England that she had her debut performance with Stresemann."

"I don't know how she is. We haven't seen each other for about two weeks." _When she disappeared after I fell asleep with her in my arms_, he added silently, resentfully. Not that he minded waking up in her bed (which, surprisingly smelled clean and a bit like lavender*), but he would much rather wake with her in the bed as well.

"Have you two fought?" His mother now sounded distressed. Chiaki fought a sigh. Another five minutes were added to the board.

"The baka hasn't called or stopped by!" He fairly exploded with outrage.

"What made her mad?" Her question was tentative. She was not afraid of Chiaki's outbursts, but rather cautiously trying to ascertain the situation and figure out his line of thinking which, to her mind, was often a little dense when it came to relationships. He was either too cold-blooded about them (as had oft been the case with Saiko) or too passionately involved emotionally and dealt with it through anger (as she had witnessed in regards to Nodame).

"Who knows what set her off? The weirdo!" He spit back in rage. All of his frustration began to bubble out of him. "It can't be that I thought she was joking! I thought it was, but now that I think of it—why would she be so overwrought about it? It was no different than usual. She knows how I feel about her, how we are."

"And just how _are_ you two?" His mother countered.

"We, I—well, she…we, er, _you know_," he finished ever so elegantly. She sighed. Was that disappointment he detected?

"Shinichi, if you can't even explain it to your own mother, how do you expect poor Nodame to understand what kind of footing you two are on?" He had no response to that. "As your mother, I know things about you that no one else does."

He sincerely doubted that.

"_I_ know that you love Nodame."

Oh. Okay. Maybe he should retract that last thought.

"I probably knew how you felt for her before you did. In fact, have you ever thought about your feelings for her in those terms, using that word?" His mind scrambled. Of course he had never used that word! Why would he use that word? Feeling it was bad enough, but to speak it, _think_ it?!?

"Shinichi," she continued gently. Uh-oh, gentleness was never a good sign. "What did you think she was joking about?"

Of course. Trust his mother to pick up on that among everything else. "Um, well…"

"Yes?"

"Nodame, well—she asked me…she asked me to marry her," he finished lamely, not knowing a way to word it better, to make him seem less at fault.

"Goodness!" His mother was surprised. "And now…"

"Now, she seems to have given up. I _told_ her after I found her when I returned from London," he stopped himself abruptly. It was hard enough to deal with his personal life, let alone recount it to his mother, for God's sake!

"Told her what? That you would marry her? That you love her? Want her? Just what did you tell her, Shinichi?" Was it him or was his mother sounding a bit peeved?

"Well, obviously I told her that I wanted us to be the Golden Pair," he stated. Duh.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Um, Mother?"

Chiaki's mother (heck anyone who had met Chiaki and Nodame) knew about Nodame's term 'Golden Pair' to describe her dream concerning their music. Chiaki thought for sure that his mother would at least understand what he was saying.

There was deep breath before he heard her voice again. "Shinichi, I'm going to say this and then you're going to fix it. The Golden Pair is a dream Nodame had for the two of you, but that dream pertained to the musical part of your life. And while music may be a part of both of your lives that can't be separated, Nodame doesn't know that when you say you want to be the Golden Pair, what you really mean is you want to be with her, that you need her."

For once, he didn't deny that he needed her. He had already figured out that his life was cold without her. Chiaki scoffed. "How could she not know?"

"Nodame is very open. She hides none of her feelings. She has always faced her feelings for you directly. After all this time, she expected you to do the same. When you didn't, she could only assume that you do not feel the same, that it is only her music that is important for you."

Chiaki was so still that he wondered if he had stopped breathing. Had he still not face his feelings for her directly? No, he admitted, he hadn't. As his mother had pointed out, he had never come out and said it either aloud or in his thoughts.

"Shinichi, are you there?"

His mother's insistent voice cut through his thoughts. "I am."

"Now what?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I do as you say. I fix it."

It wasn't often that he listened to another give advice; even less often was when he listened to it. He felt rather like a scolded child. No, he shook himself, he wasn't doing this to please his mother. He wasn't even doing it for Nodame. He was doing it for himself. He needed that warmth in his life. "Goodbye, Mother."

He didn't hear her response. He hardly remembered setting the phone down and leaving his apartment. All he could think of, as he filled with a determination he usually only felt for learning a piece of music, was Nodame. He had to find her.

He heard the music before he saw her. _Pathetique_. It was just as compelling as the first time he had heard it. He stealthily entered the practice room. How odd that it would be a full circle.

She didn't notice him, so caught up in the music was she. He felt irrationally piqued. She was all he could think about for two weeks and she could forget him by merely placing her fingers upon the keys of a piano? He watched her closely. Or maybe not…

She seemed troubled. Her playing was as gripping as usual, but there was something…he couldn't put his finger on it. She seemed almost tied down rather than set free with the music. She could do it without him, succeed on the world stage of music. Likewise, he could do the same. Yet…yet, he found he didn't want to do it alone and cold. Drifting back from his thoughts, he watched as she finished the last bars of the song. She sat still and silent once it was finished.

"Nodame."

She jumped, startled, wide eyes spinning to look at him. "Senpai?"

"I'm cold."

She seemed confused by this statement, watching as he came closer. "You're wearing a winter coat. Maybe you should have brought a scarf?"

It seemed so surreal. To have not seen her for two weeks, to have obsessed over her (yes, he could now admit it—at least to himself), to have been tormented by the memory of her proposal…all of this and upon their reunion she asks about a scarf. Well, it _is_ Nodame.

"A scarf can't fix this coldness," he answered. He steeled himself. He could do this. Face his feelings directly, as she had done. Above all else, he could _not_ let Nodame beat him. "I'm cold…"

She opened her mouth to respond, more confused than ever. He beat her to it.

"…without you."

Her mouth closed. She was frozen, afraid to hope. He sighed.

"Please don't make me beg. I've missed you. I don't want to be without you." He was only a foot away from her now. She looked uncertain. "And it has nothing to do with being the Golden Pair."

Her gaze was soft as her hands gripped the edge of the piano seat with a strength so forceful her knuckles turned white. Chiaki fidgeted. Why hadn't she responded? Did she still not understand? Had she truly given up on them? Did she—

His thoughts were cut off as her body collided with his, her arms wrapped around his waist tightly. "Senpai, I'll be here for as long as you want me."

He felt warmth invade his muscles, his bones, his marrow, his very being. He wrapped himself around her, intent on absorbing as much of her as he could. "You baka."

She did understand. He didn't have to use flowery words. He didn't have to shower her with flowers. All she needed was some reassurance. He remembered her proposal.

"_Senpai, will you marry me?"_

He wouldn't bring it up now. Besides, he thought he would really like to try a do-over. One where he did the asking, did the risk-taking. He figured it was his turn.

As he held her in his arms feeling her warmth transfer to him, he revised his opinion. She wasn't like the sunshine. Never like the sunshine, he vowed fiercely. For the sunshine was intangible, unable to be grasped, to be kept. If there was one thing he was never going to allow out of his grasp, it was Nodame. So, no, she wasn't sunshine. She was pure warmth. And he was never letting go.

****************************************************************************

Okay, that's it everyone! The * is a reference to one of my fave Nodame fanfics (you know which one). And really the last line is _not_ meant to remind anyone of a cheesy line from that huge movie years ago. You know the one: starts with T, ends in itanic. Please put any thought of that movie that the final line may have brought up out of your mind. Hopefully, this fic is less cheesy than that movie. Sigh. Well, thanks for sticking with me!


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